Oneirology
by DeepSentinel
Summary: The fifth and final part of Polysomnography. Germany had been missing for six days, and Italy can't take the stress anymore. One-shot, fem!Italy, GerIta, HRE Germany. T to be safe


**Oneirology is the study of dreams. I plan to make this the last in my series of sleep-related GerIta one-shots. You can guess what that means.**

**Disclaimer: *hangs head in shame* No.**

_I'm at a payphone, trying to call home _

_All of my change I've spent on you_

_Where have the times gone, baby it's all wrong, _

_Where are the plans we made for two?_

_If happy ever after did exist, _

_I would still be holding you like this._

_All these fairy tales are full of shit, _

_One more stupid love song-_

Italy turned off the car's stereo, momentarily wondering how she even got reception for a station that played America's music. Her focus was then yanked back to the road when she almost ran into a tree. She marveled at how much the road had fallen into disrepair since the last time she had come this way. The pavement was cracked and pot-holed, and roots poked up from between the fissures.

Germany was missing. He had been gone for six days now, and he couldn't be found anywhere. The stress of that coupled with more frequent fainting spells and dreams about Holy Rome had left her in need of a quiet place to think. So Italy had gotten in her car and sped off down a long-forgotten road, towards a place she hadn't seen in decades. She passed under the remains of an arch.

She turned off the engine as she approached an old, crumbling structure, and stepped out onto the cobble stone walkway. The same walkway that she had cleaned innumerable times was hardly visible underneath the weeds that now flourished in this forgotten place.

Taking a deep breath, Italy walked toward the door.

Ludwig opened his eyes. _I recognize this place now._ It might have been a few centuries older and beyond repair, but there was no mistaking his old strategy room. _That must mean... I'm in my old house._

He tried to get up, but was assaulted by a massive headache. _I'm just going to sit here for a while, let my head clear up. _He looked down at himself. _Wow. I look filthy. How long have I been out? _He decided that the first thing he needed to do once his headache cleared up was to go find some cleaner clothes.

Italy walked through the hallways, reminiscing. This hallway was the main hall. The door over there led to Ms. Hungary's room, and that room was... Holy Rome's...

Italy fought back the urge to run away crying and turned the door knob. She had never before been in Holy Rome's room except for a few times during thunderstorms. It was pretty clean for a room that had not seen the light of day in centuries. Speaking of light, Italy couldn't see much of the room with only the light of the hall way, so she went over and pulled back the heavy drapes, drenching the room in sunlight.

Ludwig adjusted his cloak again. The old outfit was itchy, but it fit, and it was much cleaner than the clothes he woke up in. _It looks like what I used to wear. Hungary must have made this in case I had a sudden growth spurt. She's so thoughtful. _He looked at his reflection in the mirror, noting that something seemed off. _Hm, where is it?_ His eyes settled on an old black hat.

Scooping the hat off the dresser and onto his head, Ludwig looked at himself once more. _That's much better, _he thought.

But now what was he supposed to do?

_Well, I suppose I could always go check on my old room._

Italy sat down on the bed, silently crying. Why did she come here? She knew that this place would only bring back old memories, some that she's rather forget. It's not like he could be raised from the dead. You can't bring a dead person, or even nation, back. It's impossible. It's always been impossible

"Italy?"

Italy was on his bed, crying.

Why was she here? How long has she been here? And why the hell was she crying like someone just died?

_Oh..._ Ludwig thought. _I'm supposed to be dead. That's right, she's still not over the fact that I couldn't come back._

"Italy?" He asked. Her head whipped around, eyes wide. "Italy, are you okay?"

Italy said nothing, just stared at him, shaking slightly.

"Italy..."

"No," She said quietly, then louder. "No, you're not real! You're just a hallucination! You can't be real! You're dead! You died so long ago! So why can't you just stay dead?! It's bad enough having Germany around all the time, reminding me of what will never be mine again! Why can't you just stay dead?!" She yelled the last part, then broke down sobbing, curled up in a ball. Ludwig walked over to her and put an arm around her.

"I'm real," He said. "I'm sorry I've been away for so long. I never wanted this to happen."

Italy sniffled and looked up at him. "Germany?"

"Yes." he said. "But I'm also Holy Rome. I guess I took a little time for the amnesia to wear off, huh?"

Italy giggled a little bit. "Are you really Holy Rome?" she asked. Ludwig nodded.

"I'm sorry it took so long for me to remember you, and everything's still a little fuzzy, but deep down, I guess I never really forgot you. I kept having dreams of when we were kids, and I could never figure it out, so I eventually gave up and went to Austria for help. He told me I had amnesia and gave me the map to this place, to home."

"Wait, Austria knew this entire time?"

"Him, Bruder, Hungary, and France."

"Big Brother France and Hungary knew and they never told me?" Italy looked on the verge of tears.

"Wait!" Ludwig said, and Italy stopped mid sniffle. "Austria was talking like he wasn't allowed to tell me these things, so I don't think it's their fault for not telling you."

"You think so?"

"Yes, I do. And I don't care if what Austria did broke some rules, I'm just glad he did. Without him, I would have never remembered any of it."

"That's true. Hey, Ludwig?"

"Yes, Feli?"

"Te amo."

"Ich liebe dich."

"Hey, Ludwig? Can we have pasta now?"

And cue facepalm


End file.
